A Violet for Death
by Nuit Songeur
Summary: For IIya.  Freya finds herself falling in love with the wonderful Mytho, ignorant of the Raven's blood influence.  Though, when his words turn sharp, she cannot help but let her grief overrun her.


**A/N:** This was done for IIya. I wrote some haikus that were inspired by Princess Tutu and I posted them on the community on LiveJournal saying that anyone that could guess their subjects, I would fufill a fanfic or a fanvid request. IIya asked for a fanfic with Raven!Mytho/Freya, the prompt being "Ophelia." And, this is what I came up with. I had a LOT of fun writing this!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Princess Tutu or _Hamlet._

**Warnings:** Hamlet references, AU, character death/suicide. And, please account for typos.

* * *

**A Violet for Death  
**_For: IIya  
_By: Nuit Songeur

* * *

_There's rosemary, that's for remembrance.  
Pray you, love remember.  
And there is pansies, that's for thoughts.  
There's fennel for you, and  
columbines. There's rue for you, and  
here's some for me. We may call it herb of grace o' Sundays.  
O, you must wear your rue with a  
difference! There's a daisy. I  
would give you some violets, but they  
wither'd all when my father  
died.  
_-Ophelia  
_**Hamlet Prince of Denmark **  
_Act IV Scene V

William Shakespeare

* * *

The blonde girl twirled and pranced, swinging her water can this way and that, letting its water droplets sprinkle on the awaiting petals. She sang, humming herself a little tune as she did so, and called each of her little darlings by name.

"Lilac, Marigold, Buttercup, and let's not forget you Snowdrop!" She pirouetted, showering more water on more flowers. She heard a faint sigh and Freya started, stopping immediately and looking over her shoulder. But she saw no one. Her green eyes scanned the forest line and stopped when she thought she could discern a small shadow. But then it disappeared. Shrugging, she turned back around to continue her work.

But then someone was there.

Freya backed a few steps, blinking. It was Mytho.

"Oh, Mytho," she said, smiling. "You startled me." Mytho stepped closer to her.

"Sorry," he said smoothly. Freya titled her head and looked into his crimson eyes. Those chilling, yet hypnotic eyes.

"Is there something I can help you with Signor Mytho?" Mytho silently contemplated her, advancing.

"You," he said. "You smell so wonderful. So fragrant, so pure." He lifted a lock of her golden hair between his fingers and inhaled deeply. Freya found herself to be blushing.

* * *

"I don't think you should hang around Mytho," admitted the red-haired girl, Duck, as they walked to class. Freya glanced down at her. "I'm kind of worried about him; he's been acting so strange lately." Freya held her books closer to her chest.

"I see nothing wrong with Signor Mytho," she said. "He's very nice." She turned her attention forward and felt Duck's wide, blue-eyed gaze upon her.

"But Miss Freya, I don't—" Crimson eyes flashed in Freya's mind and she stopped walking. Duck turned around to look back at her.

"I think you're just jealous that Signor Mytho asked to practice with _me _after class." Freya responded stiffly. Duck began to madly wave her hands through the air in defense.

"Oh no, no, no! That's not what I meant at all. It's just that the other day, my friend Pique—" Freya blinked, her mind clearing. Pique? She'd heard rumors about the pink-haired ballet student. Signor Mytho had led the silly girl on only to dump her later. Maybe Duck was actually concerned.

"I'm sorry, Miss Duck. I did not mean that. Please forgive me and, thank you for the concern." Duck nodded and both girls headed to class.

* * *

Freya slowly went through the basic warm-up patterns, letting her muscles loosen before she began the arduous practice. The music she chose to play in the stereo was a piano concerto by Chopin. She adjusted easily to its soft chords.

She had not cancelled the practice with Mytho. She wanted to see if Duck had been right to warn her. Besides, she could not deny her infatuation and desire to spend time with the wonderful Mytho. She waited eagerly for his arrival.

His entrance was soundless and Freya was only alerted to it when his steady hands supported her rather difficult position. She slightly turned her head to see him smirking.

"Signor Mytho," she breathed. The smirk grew wider and their practice began. All the while, Freya was quite conscious as his hands glided over her body, from her legs to her waist, to her arms, and back to her legs.

"Freya," he whispered in her ear, his breath tickling her skin. She froze. "You are most beautiful. And I am most faithful to your beauty." Freya's heart was hammering and her breathing was ragged.

"Mytho," she gasped. Mytho's fingers twitched as his hand was around hers. And then he removed himself from her, making noises similar to choking. Freya turned to see he was slightly bent over and clutching his chest, as if he were in great pain. Freya reached out to him, to stroke his face, but he quickly moved away from her, straightening himself up. His crimson eyes appeared darker than usual and his countenance was threatening, dangerous, instead of seducing.

"I don't love you," he hissed to her. "I never have loved you." Freya slowly drew her hand back, feeling the stinging tears creep to her eyes.

"Mytho," she mumbled in a shaking voice. He only glared and turned his back to her as he left the practice room.

* * *

"Duck! Duck!" yelled a familiar voice. The voice of Lilie. Duck turned to see her blonde-haired friend rushing over to her.

"What? What is it?" she asked when Lilie finally reached her. She was giddy with excitement.

"Oh it's so tragically _wonderful_! You remember Signor Mytho's last girlfriend? Miss Freya? She's completely _lost it_! She was over by the forest, singing silly love songs and picking flowers!"

"Lost it?" Duck gasped, apprehensive. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, silly Duck! What do you think I mean? Miss Freya's gone mad with rejection! Isn't that so heartbreakingly _beautiful_?"

"Oh, no! Lilie, this isn't good at all!"

"Oh, don't worry. Pique stayed to watch her. Though, who knows if Pique wouldn't just exact her revenge on Miss Freya for stealing away Signor Mytho?" A flash of pink in the distance caught Duck's eyes. She looked and saw Pique running. Duck ran to meet her.

"Pique! What is it? What's happened?"

"It's… Miss… Freya," she panted, doubled over. "She was climbing the willow tree and putting flowers in her hair and then the branch broke and she _fell_! Into the river!" Lilie gleefully clapped her hands.

"Oh, Miss Freya is so distraught! I can hardly stand it!" Duck stared, horrified.

"We have to go get help!" she exclaimed, grabbing their hands and rushing off.

* * *

Crimson eyes stared down at his beloved's limp form. Her corpse slowly drifted along the river's current, her golden strands splayed in an erratic mass on the water's surface. Violets were strung through them and the empty gaze of her green eyes remained, seemingly immortal.

"So, suicide, is it?" Mytho asked the lifeless body.

She said nothing. He bent down to pluck a violet.

"Pity. I loved more than forty thousand brothers could."

* * *

Please forgive these new scene-dividers. I'm not quite used to them. I hope you enjoyed! Please review!

_**-NuitSongeur**_


End file.
